Page 86 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vantos
A fter the trip back from the sands, I am used to the slower pace of the females.
They are much smaller than I, and clumsy in their walking.
Gregar has tried to explain their world to me - a world he has seen in the dreamspace he shares with his linasha - but I am not blessed with an imaginative headspace.
I cannot picture this world of flat grey he described.
How can a world have no roots breaking through its ground?
How are there no fallen branches they have had to climb over? I do not understand it.
I do understand weakness, though. The way that hunger erodes strength.
When we returned to the village with the females, they had not the strength to walk quickly.
Now, with me at not my full strength and Rachel much closer to hers, we are more evenly matched.
It is a slow pace, but it suits us both, and there is a certain simple pleasure in walking quietly beside her.
When we have walked for some time, I stop and turn to Rachel.
“ Eat ?” I say, using the word that Sally taught me last night.
I asked her to give me some of the more important human words so I could speak with Rachel a little.
I am not sure how many of them have stuck in my headspace overnight, but I remember this one.
And I am glad, for Rachel’s smile is as beautiful as any of Lina’s flowers when she hears me speak.
“ Yuvhadsomlessons, huh ?” she says.
Her answer is none of the words that Sally taught me, and I frown, disappointed. But Rachel just laughs and pats me on the arm before dusting off a nearby log and sitting down.
“ Yes ,” she says, and I know this word. “ Eat. ”
I lower myself to the floor, setting down my pack and opening it up.
I have some supplies for cooking so we can have a more substantial evening meal, but our lunchtime supplies are just travel rations.
I find them, unwrapping a bar and handing it to Rachel.
As she takes it from me, my headspace flashes back to the moment when I first woke after my injuries, when Rachel helped to feed me.
It is not a moment I am proud of. I know she was being kind and caring for me, as it is her job as healer to do, but also, I think, her nature.
I know I should not be so proud as to be ashamed of my weakness, but strength is what I have.
I am a warrior. My value to the tribe is in my ability to protect them.
I am not quick of tongue, nor is mine one of the more handsome faces among the tribe.
When the females yet lived, it was not me they whispered about together when they got to imagining who their mates would be.
It caused no trouble to my thoughts, for those females did not interest me either.
They had good faces, but a good face alone is not enough to make a female a good linasha.
They were too brash, too confident, to appeal to me.
I was certain that somewhere among the tribes there would be a female who would not be disappointed to mate to a quiet, serious male such as I.
Someone as prone to silence as I am. Someone who would take pleasure in the simple fashion I prefer to live.
Someone I could cherish and care for until my last days.
And perhaps there was such a female among the raskarran tribes. But like all of the females, she did not live through the sickness. I never had the chance to meet her in my dreams.
“ Havenmissedeatinthese, ” Rachel says, and I do not understand any of what she says, bar the word ‘ eat ’, but I think I know what she is saying.
It is in the pouty face she makes as she takes a bite of her ration bar.
I know she is only teasing by the way her cheeks dimple as she grins at me, but I think there is some truth to her displeasure, even if she was exaggerating it.
“They are not my favourite, either,” I say before imitating her pouty face and taking a bite of my own.
Rachel laughs, and I love the way her eyes sparkle with her amusement.
I love it especially as I was trying to make her laugh.
I know I am a source of amusement for many in the tribe, but not usually when I am deliberate about it.
It makes my heartspace swell with pleasure that I was successful with Rachel.
“ Donfeellikewevewalkedallthafar ,” Rachel says, picking at her ration bar.
She does not seem too keen to eat all of it, and I do not know if this is because of the taste, or because she is not so hungry.
I am ravenous, but she is much smaller than me, and not healing from severe injuries.
My body needs the fuel to finish what all the treatment Shemza gave me started.
Fuel and rest. Gregar was concerned that taking this journey would not be restful, but at Rachel’s slower pace and in her pleasant company, it will be.
“ Hopeimnotholdinyoup. ”
There is something shy in the way she glances at me, and I am reminded of how my attention was drawn to her. How she captured first my interest, then my heartspace.
When we first arrived on the sands, my attention was wholly taken up by the merka beasts attacking.
I barely even noticed the cowering forms of the females as I sparred with the creatures, so focused I was on ensuring those beasts did no more harm than they already had.
Once we had taken them down, or chased them off, only then did my gaze turn to the females.
It was not difficult to see their loveliness, even through the grime and the sharp edges of their shapes - hunger having stolen their softness.
Their faces are not so different to ours, for all they are much smaller, and do not have adaptions to our forest home as we do.
No tails, no claws. No dappled green skin for hiding among the leaves.
But before I had even looked on them long enough to start to identify the differences between them, they made my warrior’s heartspace sing.
Finally, I had someone who needed my protection.
Like all my tribe brothers, I hoped to mate to one of them. I confess, in my loneliness and yearning for a family, I did not much care which at first. But it was not long before I started noticing Rachel above all the others.
I suppose it was her sunset hair that drew my eye to her at first. Such an unusual and beautiful colour. Even among the females, she is the only one to have it. It did not matter that her hair was in need of a proper clean and better care, that colour was still striking.
It was not what made my attention linger, though.
As I watched her, I came to realise that Rachel is not much of a talker.
She is quiet, contemplative. She sits on the edge of the group of females, never at the centre of it.
That is what really drew me to her. The fact that she is a little bit of an outsider.
That she is different from the others, similar in some ways to how I am.
If it had only been that, perhaps my heartspace would not ache with such yearning, my skin not itch with desire to touch her.
Had I not been injured and spent time with her in the healer hut, perhaps it would not sting me so that Lina did not see fit to mate us.
Looking at Rachel back then, I saw only a beautiful female who was also a bit of an outsider.
Looking at her now, I see the attentive way she cared for me, the pride she takes in doing a good job for the tribe, the bashful smile she wears whenever Shemza compliments her work, how hard she tries to learn our ways.
She has gone from being so very uncertain to having confidence in her skill in only a handful of sunsets, and watching that transformation has been a great pleasure to me. Was there ever a finer female born?
I wish I could speak to her. Wish I could tell her that her how much my heartspace beats for her.
But perhaps it is a good thing I cannot. Lina does not intend her for me. I must overcome my yearnings and respect Rachel as a friend and sister. My wounded heartspace is my problem, and I need to learn to ignore it.
After our brief pause for food, we resume walking.
Rachel stays quiet, and I worry that she is uncomfortable with our silence, our inability to communicate.
But every time I glance back at her, she smiles at me, and I am reassured.
It is good that she is quiet. It means I can focus better on the trees around us.
I must pay attention - keep my eyes and ears open to signs of predators.
I am no hunter, but all warriors learn a little of a hunter’s skills.
A warrior may have the strength and skill with a spear to take down a merka beast, but we are better to not let the creatures take us by surprise.
But there are no signs of scat, or the gouges in bark left when a merka beast sharpens its claws.
We are still on our own territory here, and the merka beasts do know better than to stray so close to a raskarran tribe.
Though with our tribes in such small numbers now, the creatures have grown bolder, so it pays to be vigilant.
It is easy walking, this first part of the journey.
The paths are often trod by our hunters, and we keep the main routes clear.
Once we step off our territory, things will be a little trickier, but nothing worse than Rachel endured on the journey here.
She is a strong female, as are all of them.
And if it gets to be more than she can handle, I will gladly carry her until the way clears again.
I wonder if she would allow it, though? I think of myself nearly refusing help in the healer’s hut. I think perhaps she is more sensible than I am, less stubborn and proud. It seems to me those flaws in my personality would not be compatible with the role of a healer.